Run Away
by moonlitelm
Summary: They’ve hated one another since forever, but only they were allowed to hurt each other. A trip to New York ends badly, when Eric once again comes to Kyle’s rescue. Together, they flee the country and find themselves in Canada, running from the law.
1. Chapter 1

Rating: PG14 for the entire story. There will be swearing, sexual innuendo, and violence.

Pairing: Kyle/Cartman

Summary: They've hated one another since forever, but only _they_ were allowed to hurt each other. A trip to New York ends badly, when Eric once again comes to Kyle's rescue. Together, they flee the country and find themselves in Canada, running from the law.

The lovely **vixums** mentioned a dream in which Cartman and Kyle had to run. Eric had of course, done something horribly wrong. This story is entirely for her. Deanna, I love you so much dude. You're always so friendly and kind, so I wanted to repay you. This is going to be an actual fanfic, and it is one hundred percent yours. Thank you so much for dealing with me these past few weeks; I've had a wonderful time. I don't think you quite know how much you've helped me, but regardless, I hope you like this story.

Z

Kyle whimpered in fear, squirming under the large body above him. His face was pressed into cold linoleum flooring, and there was a puddle beside his nose. He hoped to God that it was water from wet shoes, and not piss. The entire bathroom smelled stale, and he crinkled his nose against the overwhelming scent. The man above him chuckled, leaning down to bite against an ear.

Kyle screamed when the flesh ripped, softly begging the man to get off of him. He squirmed, cringing at the feel of blood sliding wetly against his neck. A shudder ran through his small frame as thick, dirty fingers worked their way into his mouth.

"God damn you're a pretty little thing. Somethin' this pretty shouldn't be goin' into the men's washroom." A drunken voice purred into his ear, as the blood was slowly licked away. "Fuck you taste almost as pretty as you look." The voice groaned as the owner rubbed himself against Kyle's behind.

The Jew trembled harder, eyes closing to help fight off the panic he was feeling. He _knew _going to the bathroom alone had been a bad idea. And now, here he was, getting humped like a two dollar whore by some old drunk guy.

The thought that the man was drunk calmed Kyle's nerves. The fucker probably wouldn't be able to perform. Kyle relaxed slowly, not realising that it made the man think his new toy was actually becoming more willing.

"See I knew a pretty little girl like you would want this. You need a man huh? Not those pussies you were with earlier, a real man."

Kyle bit back a smart remark about the girl comments. Sure, he had feminine features, but he was most definitely not a gi- Oh. Apparently the drunken bastard was figuring this out. Kyle resumed his squirming as a rough hand closed over his groin, squeezing him.

"Yeah. Yeah you like that don't you pretty? Feels good huh? Feels nice to have a man around, to treat you right." The husky voice growled against the skin of his neck. Dear God the bastard was leaving a _hickey. _Kyle suddenly felt the urge to vomit.

Instead, he curled his lips into a sneer and responded with, "No it hurts. And I don't see a man, I see some fat old pig who likes to rape kids."

All it earned him was a sharp twist of his testicles. His scream was silenced by a hand clamping over his mouth. Closing his eyes again, Kyle mentally screamed for Stan, Kenny – hell even the fatass. Anyone.

Apparently there was a God, as he answered Kyle's prayers.

The door to the bathroom swung open as Eric stepped into the room, calling out, "Ay! Jew, what the fuck is taking your scrawny ass so long? I thought you just had to take a quick piss!"

Kyle cheered to himself, turning his head as best he could to look towards the sink. The door was just a small hallway and a turn away. He began to shout behind the hand, calling for Eric to come closer. He realised absently that he was crying, and wondered when he had started. His reflexes kicked in and Kyle bit down on his tongue to try and stem the flow of tears. If fatass saw him crying, there was no way he'd let him live it down. Being molested _and _crying over it? Oh God. Maybe it would have been better if Stan had come...

Eric turned the corner, rolling his eyes again. 'God damn Jew, how long does it take to have a piss? Christ.' His thoughts stopped immediately when he caught sight of what exactly _had _been taking the little Jew so long.

He saw red.

Kyle's shouts filled the air when Cartman lunged forward, hitting the older man and knocking him off of the Jew. The redhead scuttled backwards, pressed against the wall. His pant leg and ass were soaked from the water he was sitting in, as he watched the fight.

Fuck Cartman was scary.

His fists pounded into the pervert over and over. He didn't even look like he knew what he was doing. Kyle would have gotten up to stop him, but he highly doubted that Eric could be calmed down at this point. The other boys face was filled with rage, as he slammed the older man's head into the ground. There was blood pooling now.

The pervert's nose was broken, and he was shouting in fear. His tongue pushed out of his mouth, bringing two teeth with it. They scattered to the floor, covered in sticky saliva and blood. His was lucky it was his two front teeth, or he would have bitten the tip of his tongue off as Eric slammed his face into the floor once more.

"No one touches my fucking Jew! _No one! _Do you understand me you sick fuck?" The fat boy roared. The head of the pervert hit the ground once more. His screams were silenced by a loud crack. Kyle stared in horror as the life faded from those creepy eyes.

Eric leaned back, panting hard. He had a faint look of shock on his face as he stared down at what he had done. The man wasn't breathing anymore.

Kyle was in shock, to say the least. He watched as Eric stood up, walked to the sink, and washed his hands. The fatass looked insanely calm, and Kyle vaguely wondered if he'd done anything like that before.

Eric walked over to Kyle, crouching down slowly in front of him. He eyed the Jew up and down, before releasing a deep sigh. "Come on Kahl. We gotta get out of here. Someone's going to come in eventually." He said softly, reaching out to grab the Jew under the arms. He hoisted him onto his feet, tugging him out of the bathroom.

Neither boy bothered to look at the body behind them as they slipped out of the bathroom and back into the sweaty, pulsing mass of bodies on the dance floor.

Eric cast a glance down at Kyle before turning and tugging him out of the club. They went to the hotel room, where they sat on the bed and began to plan.

Z

I'm really proud of this chapter ;;


	2. Chapter 2

Rating: PG14 for the entire story. There will be swearing, sexual innuendo, and violence.

Pairing: Kyle/Cartman

Summary: They've hated one another since forever, but only _they_ were allowed to hurt each other. A trip to New York ends badly, when Eric once again comes to Kyle's rescue. Together, they flee the country and find themselves in Canada, running from the law.

Z

Kyle sat heavily on the bed, entire body shaking. He grabbed the rumbled comforter and pulled it around his shoulders. It smelled like Kenny, and Kyle cringed faintly at that. They had left Kenny and Stan at the club. The other two were probably looking for them by now...

They had rented two hotel rooms. Eric and Kenny shared one, while Kyle and Stan took the other. Kyle hadn't stepped foot inside the room that didn't belong to him, before today. It was surprisingly clean - well, Eric's side was. He watched at the larger boy sat down at desk. Eric still had that calm look on his face. He seemed completely unfazed by what had happened only half an hour ago.

Kyle's slim hands rose to rub at his arms. He gingerly stroked his fingers against his right wrist. It hurt, and he could tell there would be bruising. He eyed his arm, unable to shake the feeling that something was missing. Nibbling at his lower lip, he idly wondered what was wrong.

"Oh fuckshit."

Eric turned to face the Jew, frowning. "What? What's wrong?" He managed to keep the concern out of his voice. He looked calm, sure, but inside he was having a breakdown. Not because of what he did, but because of what could have happened. If he hadn't gotten up to make sure the Jew didn't fall in a toilet...

Kyle held up his naked wrist for Eric to see. When he got only a blank stare in return, he cringed. "My hospital bracelet." He explained.

As he had gotten older, his diabetes had gotten worse. Several times his friends had witnessed him going into diabetic shock. He wore a band around his wrist when he went out, in case he needed to be rushed into the hospital. It had his name, phone number, address, list of allergies...everything.

Eric closed his eyes briefly, before turning back to the desk. "So they'll know you were there." He kept his voice even, knowing that if he showed the Jew that he was nervous, the kid would probably have a panic attack. "We can't stay here." He said, after a silence that lasted several minutes.

"What do you mean? Why can't we stay here? He - He tried to rape me. Doesn't that mean that it was in self defence?" Kyle stood and walked to the desk, staring down at Eric with large, nervous eyes.

"Only if you use reasonable force. I don't think me cracking his skull open is reasonable force." Eric said softly, forcing himself to stare at the desk. "You'd be fine. But I'm going to jail if they catch me."

"Well then, you go." Kyle started, "Look, we can go to the bank, I'll take money out of my savings for you -"

"If they don't find me, and just you, you're the one going to jail Jew."

"O-oh..." Kyle sat on the edge of the desk, staring at the floor. "Where are we going to go Eric?"

Eric's head jerked up at the use of his name. Kyle _never _called him by his first name. Ever. He supposed the Jew only felt it was proper, after Eric had saved him from being ass raped by some fucktard. "I don't know. We have to get out of the states, that's for damn sure."

"Mexico?" Kyle offered softly. He could feel an intense wave of calmness sliding over him, and he welcomed it. The shaking settled down after a few minutes.

"It's the first place they'll look. Plus the health care there sucks _ass _and we have to find somewhere we can get your fucking insulin." Eric looked up at the Jew, brow creased with worry. "How much do you have left?"

"Enough to get me through the week." Kyle said eagerly, eyeing Eric's face. He'd never seen the fatass look so concerned about anything - except his next meal, that is.

"Good. Okay." Eric nodded, mind racing. "Canada."

"Huh?"

"We're going to Canada. Go pack a bag." He commanded, pointing at the door. Kyle hesitated momentarily, before doing as told. 'If I knew the Jew would be so sumbissive, I would have smashed someone's face in sooner.' Eric thought to himself, rolling his eyes.

He grabbed a pen and a piece of paper, before starting on a note to Stan and Kenny. He didn't care if they were worried, but he knew that Kyle would.

'_Stan and Kenny,___

_Something happened at the club, something I don't feel the need to tell you. Kyle and I are going to Mexico. Don't bother to look for us. If we can, we'll contact you. If not, the Jew says bye. I don't really give two shits about you two, so see you later assholes!___

_From, ___

_Eric and Kyle.'___

"Mexico?" A voice above his head said. Eric jumped, and heard Kyle yelp as the top of his head connected with the Jew's chin.

"God dammit you sneaky Jew bastard! Make some fucking noise!"

"I thought you said we're going to Canada!"

"We are! But the first people they're going to talk to, is our friends. If we tell them we're in Mexico, it'll give us some more time before they change directions. Fuck." Eric rolled his eyes and taped the note to the wall, turning to pack his bag once he was finished.

"And you call _me _sneaky?" Kyle huffed, glaring at the fatass.

"Shut up Kaaahl." Eric growled back.

"Make me fatass!"

"Look, I don't have the fucking time to argue with you right now. This isn't South Park. The law here doesn't just sit around with their thumbs up their ass. So we've got to fucking haul ass, okay?" He snapped, glaring at the smaller boy.

Kyle squirmed faintly, before nodding. "Yeah..." He almost added a sorry onto the end of that, but preferred not to apologize to the fat fuck. It was his fault they were arguing anyway!

Eric's bag was packed quickly. Kyle followed him out the door, and down the hall. Eric stopped at a pay phone, picking it up and shoving some change into it. "What's Ike's cell phone number?"

"What? Why?"

"I need a favour."

Z

Done. I kinda like this chapter too. Although I'm sorry it's so short ;; I just don't want to overload the chapters with scene changes and such. So ... yeah that's my excuse XD Enjoy!!


	3. Chapter 3

Rating: PG14 for the entire story. There will be swearing, sexual innuendo, and violence.

Pairing: Kyle/Cartman

Summary: They've hated one another since forever, but only _they_ were allowed to hurt each other. A trip to New York ends badly, when Eric once again comes to Kyle's rescue. Together, they flee the country and find themselves in Canada, running from the law.

A/N:

Hi guys. Thanks to everyone who actually reads my stories, it means a lot to me. Seriously. Sorry I haven't updated like, anything except the 101 Theme List, but I've been in kind of a crappy mood recently. I'm back again though, and I'm going to try and get updating Run Away and Craig Tucker is a F_cker. I haven't given up on this story, I was just MIA XD

I'm starting another Kyman fic today too, but don't worry. I'm going update these three regularly until they're done. If anyone has any questions, comments, or even PROMPTS that they want to give me, feel free =) I wouldn't mind writing fanfics for you lovely people 3

Z

Kyle sighed as he stared up at where Eric was. The fatass had told him to go away, while he used the phone. Apparently he didn't want Kyle getting involved in whatever the hell it was him and Ike had done...

Kyle shook his head, turning back to the food in his hands. Eric – No, _Cartman _– had told him to go fetch some food for the trip. He was still on the phone though, and Kyle honestly didn't want to get into another fight with him. He was way too tired for that crap. With another sigh, Kyle sat down on the steps, deciding to wait for fatass to finish whatever he was doing.

A

Eric stared out at where Kyle was sitting, an annoyed look in his eyes. Mentally, he scolded himself for even caring if the kid was okay.

"Cartman?" The voice on the phone chirped, trying to get his attention.

With a grunt, Eric turned away from the redheaded Jew. He leaned his head against the side of the booth, "Yeah Ike. I'm here."

"I'm not going to help you unless you tell me what happened, asshole."

Eric rolled his eyes, biting back a growl. "Look. Kyle was in trouble, and I ended up hurting someone real bad. If you don't fucking help us, both our asses are going to jail."

"But he didn't hurt anyone Cartman." Ike reasoned. Personally, he didn't want _either_ of them to go to jail. Eric had connections that the young Canadian didn't. Being 'friends' with the fatass was incredibly beneficial, in Ike's opinion.

"No but was helping a criminal. Look, are you going to help or not?" He could hear the little Canuck sighing on the other line.

"Yeah. Fine. What do you need me to do?"

"We need new passports, fake names. And I need you to somehow wire money over to –" He didn't get to finish as Ike interrupted him.

"I have a friend near you. He can get you your passports. You'll have to go to his house to pick them up. I'm faxing pictures and information to him now. What names do you want?"

Eric groaned. "Fuck, I don't know. Just fucking pick something."

"Fine."

He could hear the smirk in Ike's voice, and wondered if letting the Canuck pick their names had been a smart idea. "What about money?"

"You won't need much. I can buy the plane tickets online. I've just got to make it so they can't track my IP address. I know a big guy that owes me a favour, so I can get him to wire some money over to Kyle's new account."

Eric was surprised, and impressed. "You have the accounts opened already?"

"Yeah. But you can't know your names yet. You'll see when you get your passports. I would suggest changing your hair color or something too – or at least Kyle. He's kind of hard to miss. You can get your new bank cards when you get your passports. It'll take my friend about two hours, so fix your hair now." Ike explained, before giving Eric the address.

"We're going to Canada. Can you get the tickets faxed to him?"

Ike burst out laughing, ignoring Cartman's annoyed growling. "Oh my _God_. You're going to _Canada_?! This is priceless. So, so priceless."

"Shut the fuck up you midget Jew. Can you get them faxed over or what?"

"Yes..." Ike managed to choke out, trying to calm his laughter down.

"We're going to go buy bus tickets for Mexico right now. In person, so when they start looking for us..."

"They'll be confused." Ike finished, nodding even though the fatboy couldn't see him. "I get it. You know, for such a lazy lard ass you aren't that stupid."

Eric promptly hung up.

A

Half an hour later found Kyle bent over a sink in a dirty McDonald's bathroom. He was fairly pissed off with having such bad luck in bathrooms recently.

"Stop squirming for fucks sake. It'll be easier if you just stay still."

"I feel like a fucking girl!"

"For Christ's sake." Eric huffed, tightening the hand on the back of Kyle's neck. "If you don't stay still, it's going to get in your fucking eyes. I don't want to hear you bitch!"

Kyle scowled darkly, but forced himself to stay still. Really, Eric wasn't hurting him. It was just annoying. He stared into the sink, watching as the water began to run clear, rather than the murky black it had been a few minutes ago.

Something kept him from telling the fatass that he thought his hair was finished – he denied to himself, that it was Eric's hands massaging his head that kept him quiet.

"There. You're done. See, that wasn't so bad." Eric muttered as he pulled the Jew up, then forced him over to the hand drying machines. He tucked the boys head under it, turning the heat on. "Just stay there for a second."

Kyle used one of the towels they had stolen from the hotel, to help finish his hair. His eyes remained closed throughout it. He didn't want to see what had become of his precious hair.

"All right Kahl. C'mere." Eric called, once again by the sinks. Kyle huffed and walked over, staring at the object in Eric's hands.

"What is that?"

"Hair straightener. It'll finish drying your hair for you anyway." He forced Kyle to sit on the counter, before snatching at his curls.

A

It was another thirty minutes before they were done. Eric stepped back to admire his handiwork.

Kyle looked like a different person completely. His hair was now black, and straightened of those annoying curls. Eric had pulled it into a low ponytail. With his black rimmed glasses, fag clothes, and pretty hair, Kyle looked damn _fine_.

Eric smirked.

He did good work.

Z

Sorry again, that it's short. Next chapter we'll get to see their new names, and watch them escape to Canada. I'm sorry it has a slow start, but hey. I don't want to rush and make it crappy!!


	4. Chapter 4

Yeah so I'm going to finish this one, before I finish Like a Bird. So, sorry to you guys who want to read that one. But really, I need to finish one fanfic at a time. So I will get it done eventually. I plan to update Run Away every few days, so that we can work through it quickly. I have a fair idea of where this is going, so I hope that it won't be too difficult to write.

Another thing too. I'm sorry so much of my stuff has been short lately. I'm going to try to make chapters longer, because I know some of you are disappointed. So, I'm sorry that I'm making you upset ;;

*

Kyle looked up at the dingy house in front of him. The windows were painted black, the walls were scrawled with graffiti. As they walked up the stairs, he heard the old wooden things groan under their weight. Instantly, his hand shot out to the railing. _Juuuust in case_ he thought to himself, feeling a nervous sweat beginning on his brow. They did a lot of crazy shit – all the South Park kids did – but still. Kyle didn't particularly _like_ danger.

He chanced a glance at Eric, frowning when he noticed the other boy didn't seem bothered by the sad state the house was in. _Then again, he's probably used to doing this kind of crap._ Kyle mused. He stood behind Eric, letting him take control of the situation.

Eric raised a hand and knocked on the door three times. Kyle noticed his tensed stance, like he was expecting someone to attack him. His attention returned to the door as the whole peephole frame slid open. He stared into a pair of watery green eyes, feeling a shiver run up his spine.

"Cartman and Broflovski. Ike sent us." Eric said smoothly. He was still tense, but nothing on his face betrayed that he was on edge.

For a moment, Kyle wished he could be like Cartman. Not that he wanted to be an obese, racist, moronic fool. Just that he wished his eyes weren't so revealing – that he could remain calm even when he was scared.

Damn him and his short temper.

The door swung open slowly, and the stench of loser filled Kyle's nose. Yes, loser. The scent of someone who stayed inside all day, picking their nose, eating pizza, and watching porn. Someone who didn't wash their clothes, or change them all week for that matter. The stink of sweat practically made Kyle's hair curl. He looked to Eric again, only to see that he was _completely unaffected _by it.

"C'mon in." The man drawled lazily. He stepped to the side and let them in, closing and locking the door directly behind them. Kyle bit back a rude comment as he was forced to step around empty pizza boxes, and half empty tubs of ice cream.

"So you have it?" Eric asked with his 'no bullshit' tone in place.

"Yeah. We just gotta get your pictures done." He mused, grabbing at a long, funny looking tube.

Kyle was confused until the distinct, skunky scent of weed filled the room. He cringed again, and gave Eric an annoyed look.

Eric raised his eyebrow at the Jew, looking amused, "What?" He mouthed.

"This is so gross." Kyle mouthed back, wrinkling up his nose.

Eric grinned darkly, before mouthing a final "Not as gross as your mom."

Kyle's eyes darkened hatefully, and he was about to shout when the guy – who had never bothered to give his name – interrupted. "Yo, dudes. You gonna do this shit or what?" He whined.

Kyle sighed and sat in the chair that the man pointed out. He shook his head as he had to flick a half eaten waffle off of the seat. Settling into the chair, he looked up.

"We gotta tie his hair back, take off his glasses. That's how passport pictures are, y'know?" He drawled, gesturing at Cartman.

The bigger boy walked over and tugged Kyle's hair into a tighter ponytail, ignoring the boys yelps of pain as the strands were pulled at.

He had to keep up his image.

*

Kyle took deep gulps of air once they were outside. Their passports were properly forged, government approved, and photographed. His keen eyes had been surprised at how realistic they were. The people who examined them wouldn't think twice.

Plus, it was always easier to get into Canada than it was the US. Or so Ike had told him, after a run away attempt last year…He chuckled faintly at his own line of thought.

Ike running away to his home town, and now Kyle running away from his. It was just way too ironic. _Canada_ he thought, _I fucking hate Canada_.

A hand settled on the small of his back, and Kyle jerked in shock, head snapping up so he could stare into Eric's eyes.

"C'mere." Eric muttered, hooking an arm over Kyle's shoulder. He ignored how the Jew tensed, and headed down the stairs. Once at the street, he hailed a taxi over.

As soon as the door was open, Kyle was shoved into the cab. Eric cast one final glance around the street, eyes narrowed in concern. He stood poised for a moment, concentrated like a bloodhound on a fragile quail. Eventually, almost reluctantly, he ducked into the cab as well. The door was shut, and he leaned forward to give the man directions. "To the international airport."

*

Yeah so I lied. It's still short. So, I'm going to say instead, that I'm going to update VERY frequently. I can't keep a chapter going too long without making it look like I'm trying to fit in too much. I don't like jumping around, so the shorter chapters make me feel better. Like it's more informative. So…SORRY DEE!


	5. Chapter 5

As promised, here's another chapter. I told you guys they'd be short but frequent :P I wrote this during class, so yeah. I should also have chapter six finished by tonight as well.

I hope you all enjoy it. Reviews are quite welcome 3

*

They were silent the entire ride to the airport. Kyle couldn't help but feel that Eric was upset. He kept the concern to himself, not wanting to seem like he actually care about the lard ass. _Then again, if it weren't for him you'd be bent over a bathroom sink calling some old guy Daddy_, he mused to himself, disgust snaking its way over his skin.

Cartman sat beside the Jew, back rigid. His gaze stayed stubbornly fixed on the outside world flying by. The loser Ike had sent them to have given Eric a bank card _and _a credit card. He wasn't worried about paying for the cab. It was ridiculous that the ride was going to cost a hundred dollars _– this asshole ain't getting a tip _– but still.

Someone had been watching the losers house. If it was the FBI or the cops, they were fucked. He had thought nothing of the black car with its tinted windows – they were common around here – until he saw the flash of a camera. Someone had taken a picture...Of them. Or rather, Kyle. It had put Cartman on edge.

It meant that someone knew. Shoving Kyle into the cab and rushing off as fast as legally possible had been the best course of action, his first instinct. The whole reason they were in this mess anyway, was because Kyle wore his pants way too tight in the ass to be anywhere near straight. But...but still.

His eyes focused on the rear view mirror for a second, before narrowing. His mind worked in overdrive as he looked around at the buildings and streets flying by. "Go left!"

"But sir that is not the way to the airport..." The driver said calmly, keeping up his slow ass pace.

"I said fucking go left. I'm not going to airport anymore, dickwad!" Cartman barked, leaning over to growl in the man's ear.

The driver turned left.

"Fuck it. Go right!"

The driver went right. Cartman leaned even closer, practically shouting direction into the poor cabbies ear. At his promise of extra money, the man stepped on the gas, breaking the speed limit.

Kyle clung to the back of the driver's seat, eyes wide with panic. "Cartman Jesus Christ! What the fuck are you doing?!" He screamed, shooting his companion a startled yet angry look.

"Stop." Eric said finally. The cabbie slammed on the breaks.

Kyle's head slammed forward, meeting with the back of the driver's seat. He thumped back into his chair with the force of his own momentum, hand shooting up to hold at his bloody nose.

Eric shrugged the guilt off as he tossed a handful of cash at the driver. "Keep the change." He snapped, leaning over Kyle to fling open the Jew's door. Seconds later, Kyle's seatbelt was being undone, and he was shoved unceremoniously from the vehicle. Eric clambered out after him, picking Kyle up off the ground and dragging him into a nearby alley.

"Kids." The driver said, looking down at the money in his hands. "Kids..."

*

Kyle stumbled after Cartman, his arm held tightly within the larger boys grasp. His nose was still bleeding, and he had the sinking feeling that they were lost.

Hopelessly fucking lost.

And Cartman till hadn't given him any reason for his insane behaviour. INot that Cartman was sane on a good dayI Kyle thought, rolling his eyes.

A determined look slid onto his face as he dug his heels into the ground, and jerked his armsout of Eric's grasp.

The fatass actually looked surprised. Like he dind't ecpect yle to fight back. That only fuelled the petite Jew's anger further. "Who the fuck do you think are Cartman? What right do you have to just drag me all over the city, and toss me around like a radoll?"

"What do you mean Kahl?" Cartman asked, looking genuinely confused wit the question.

_No, he's faking_ Kyle told himself, shaking his head. "You know what I mean. Lardass."

"Oh. Okay. You want me to answer then?" GHe asked, in a sickeningly sweet voice. His 'Mom I need someting right now" ' smile was in place.

"Yeah. I do." Kyle huffed, nose going into the air as his arms crossed over his slim chest.

_Uptight little bitch. _Cartman smiled again. "Well KAHL." He started, "I think I'm the person who saved your ass. Literally. The person who KILLED a man so your tight ass wouldn't get another stick shoved up it. So your huge Jew nose wouldn't get bent out of place. I'm the person whose keeping you out of jail! I'm your fuckin caretaker Kahl. So don't argue. Just shut up and –"

"Respect your authoriteh?" Kyle interrupted, sarcastically. "No. I won't. I'm going to turn around, and go to the nearest police station." His voice lost some of it's ansger, sounded almost resigned. "Maybe they'll be softer on us if we turn ourselves in."

"You go to jail...your ass is on the line every fucking night. You're a tiny boy Kahl. You're going to be bent over, dealing with worse than what could have happened in that bathroom stall. Every. Single. Night. No one will be there to protect you from that Kahl. You're lucky I was there in the first place." Eric stepped forward. "I don't want that. You don't want that."

Kyle mistook the gleam in Cartman's eyes as realization.

He felt himself being lifted and 'oofed!' as his stomach hit the fat asses should. His face was dangerously close to his enemies ass.

His struggles were all but ignored. It was as if he was no more than a five pound bag of potatoes, being carried home from the supermarket.

"I swear to God if you fart I'll kill you." He said sulkily, hanging over Eric's shoulder uselessly.

Eric simply laughed and began walking to the subway.

*

LALALALA chapter five. Took me forever to get typed up, cause people kept calling me.


	6. Chapter 6

WOW okay sorry for all the typos in chapter five. I'm sure that turned a lot of people off. I'm very sorry. What happened was...Well, I wrote it during class. So when I was typing it up, I totally wasn't looking at the screen. And then I never did a spell check. And I suck. So. Hard. I'm so sorry. To make it better, this chapter will be longer.

*

Eric's jaw was set firmly, his teeth grinding together. He knew it was bad for them, but fuck.

The Jew was fast asleep, flopped over onto his shoulder, snoring and fucking _drooling._ He couldn't help but give a triumphant smirk at that. Ah, dear Kyle Broflovski drooling over his friendemy while he slept like a baby. Eric took a quick photo of it with his cell phone.

Then his face fell. He had no one to send it to. Eric gave a dejected sigh and tilted his head back.

The kid behind him was kicking his chair.

The baby three rows down was screaming its little fucking lungs out.

And to top it all off, the man across the aisle from them was watching Kyle with a creepy look on his face, grinding against his laptop bag.

Eric shot him a dark look, wrapping an arm around the Jew. Normally, he'd never want to touch Kyle. But the boy was his responsibility now, and he was _not _going to let some old faggot jack off while thinking about his goddamn Jew!

Yes. His Jew. He had saved Kyle, and therefore, the boy was his. He gave another sigh when the pilot finally declared they were landing. Three hours of this torture...He really wanted off that fucking plane.

Eric shoved Kyle's arm roughly, not bothering with being gentle. The little fucktard shouldn't have fallen asleep and left Eric to be tortured alone! He watched as green eyes fluttered open groggily, from behind those ugly, thick rimmed glasses.

"Plane's landing." He muttered, gesturing for Kyle to do up his seat belt.

The boy sighed and did as told, straightening his seat while wiping drool off his chin. He had the decency to look embarrassed, Eric noted.

_Good. He should be. Fucking ruined my coat...little faggot._

*

Kyle stared out the window as the countryside rolled by. They were following the only road in Canada east, heading towards British Columbia. Cartman said he knew a guy who had a cabin in the Rockies, and that they would be safe there.

Kyle still couldn't get over the shock he felt inside. Cartman had saved his ass sure. The violent manner in which Cartman dealt with people was to be expected. Hell, after all the years they'd been friendemies, Kyle knew that Cartman thought _he _was the only one allowed to hurt the Jew. Seeing him react so brutally to the entire situation had been a given. He'd seen Cartman slam other County High students down for taking a crack at him or Kenny.

No, the surprise was that Eric was still there. _Eric – _the name sounded strange in his head, and he didn't want to slip up and say it out loud.

But he wasn't Cartman anymore. It just seemed so impersonal to think of him as such. Kyle wasn't an idiot. He realized how much Eric had risked by doing this. He had thrown away his entire future, his whole life, just to make sure that Kyle didn't have five years of therapy from a horrible rape situation.

When they had first set out on their 'journey' Kyle hadn't had time to think about everything. Now though, in the stolen car, where they were safe from harm, his mind wandered. The only sound was the rumble of the engine, and the music droning softly from the stereo. He tried to pay attention to the lyrics, but failed.

With an aggravated sigh, Kyle slumped against the door and succumbed to his thoughts. "What are we going to do? Go hide out in some cabin in the woods?" He started, head rolling back as his eyes closed. "We're going to run out of money eventually."

Eric rolled his eyes, "There's such a thing as working, Kahl. I know you've never had to work for anything because your daddy's a big time lawyer in our shithole town, but some of us actually had to make money to pay for what we want." He ranted in a low voice. One hand was settled in his lap, the other gripped the steering wheel lightly.

Kyle made an annoyed noise in his throat. "You're supposed to use both hands." He said quickly, fingers curling around his seatbelt.

Eric merely raised an eyebrow and slowly pressed his foot down on the gas. "I'm supposed to do what now?" He turned his head towards Kyle, lips curved into a dark smirk.

"You're supposed to use both hands you psychopath! And keep your eyes on the road!" Kyle's eyes were wide in shock. After all the _shit_ they'd been through in the last few days, he was damned if he'd die in a car accident.

"Kyle, whose driving?" Eric kept his foot on the gas, steadily making the car go faster.

"You are." The Jew replied sulkily. He didn't want to piss the fatass off anymore than he already was. Lord knew it would only lead to more disaster.

"Good." Eric slowed down to a more normal pace. He really didn't want the cops to end up chasing them down. That little stunt had simply been to put Kyle in his place. _Jew needs to learn that I'm the man here, and he's the bitch._ He grumbled internally.

They drove in complete silence, and Kyle wondered how long it was going to take them to get to the Rockies.

Being in such close proximity to Eric, while not trying to physically maim him, was really taking a toll.


	7. Chapter 7

Kyle gave a happy groan as Eric shoved open the front door of the cottage. After a week of being on the road, or in shitty roadside motels, he was glad to be in a stranger's cottage. Plus, Eric had made him run in and get groceries, so they could make their own food.

He was only glad that _he_ had been the one picking out the food. Kyle was certain that if Eric had done the shopping, they would be living off of Oreo's and Eggo's.

Once the door was open, he carried in the first load of groceries, eagerly peeking into rooms to find the kitchen. He was surprised at how tidy it was. He couldn't find so much as a speck of dust. He figured that the owner probably had maids or a housekeeper who came when he was away. Setting the bags he had on the floor, he began unloading things onto the counter.

Kyle was vaguely surprised when Eric entered, the rest of the bags secure in his arms. The brunet lowered them to the floor, "You can unpack all this shit, you bought it." He snapped.

Kyle smiled. It was definitely a more Eric response, than the helpful, ever-watching man he had come to know in the past week. The smile fell off of his face as he thought about it. _A week. I've been gone for over a week, driving with fatass, and neither of us are dead._

He wondered if Stan and his parents were looking for them. Ike knew where they were, but he wasn't about to hand out that information to anyone. He felt a small sense of relief knowing that someone had an idea of who he was with, where he was. At least if his body ended up in a stream, Ike would be able to identify his new hair and strange appearance, the strange name that was bound to be on his ID.

However, he didn't think he'd wind up dead anytime soon. Eric seemed hell bent on making sure nothing life threatening happened to him. During the course of their drive, the larger one had verbally ripped into three separate people for the way they talked to Kyle. And, on one occasion, had punched someone in the face for the way he had _looked_ at Kyle.

He felt safe, and it was a strange feeling. He had never thought he was anything_ but _safe, but now, here, with a man he thought he hated, he was finding the true meaning of the word. God help him, but Eric was growing on him.

"Kahl..."

Eric's voice was dangerous, low. A shiver ran up Kyle's spine, and he shuddered visibly. He turned slowly to face his companion, eyes wide and confused. "Y-yeah?" He stuttered. Usually Eric couldn't intimidate him, at _all_. There was something about the way he was glaring, eyes almost black, which had Kyle scared.

"Just how much do you like having your little brother alive?" The larger one growled.

Kyle's eyes flared with anger. "I knew it. You're only doing this because you want something for me!" All thoughts of Eric fled, turning quickly back into ones about _Cartman_. "Well? What the hell is it? I figure it has to be something humiliating." His anger fell and was replaced by panic. "Are you going to kill me? Rape me? I mean, we're in a cabin in the middle of fucking no-"

A hand wrapped around the lower portion of his mouth, squeezing his jaw tightly. Eric's eyes _were_ black now, and he looked furious. He leaned very close to Kyle, their noses practically touching. "_Shut. The. Fuck. Up." _He snarled.

No, not furious. Murderous.

Kyle shook slightly in Eric's grasp, jaw aching from the force it was being squeezed with. He swallowed thickly. He wondered if it was Eric's intention to break it. He squeaked from behind the thick palm as Eric's other hand settled on the back of his neck.

He was dragged into the living room, and shoved down onto the floor beside the coffee table. His elbow hit the leg of the couch, and Kyle hissed in pain. He grunted as Eric's hand found his hair, jerking his head up.

Something smacked against the side of his face, and he stared at it in horror. "No!" He cried, eyes wild with shock. "Oh my God, I'm sorry! Jesus Christ..."

"You better be."


	8. Chapter 8

Kyle's cheeks were coloured with shame as he set Eric's dinner in front of him. "I'm really sorry." He said meekly. His head ducked, straight black hair sliding into his face, shielding it from Eric's glaring gaze. "I really...I'm sorry." He twisted his hands together, hovering at the side of the larger man. "Is there anything else you need?" He asked softly.

"I can't believe you." Eric started, voice low. "You...After all I've _done_ for you in the past few weeks, and you accuse me of wanting to _rape you?_ Kahl I – ugh. Just go away. I don't even want to look at you." Eric's glare faded and was replaced by an almost distraught look.

Kyle slunk away, guilt bubbling in the pit of his stomach. It was so heavy; he could feel it rising like bile in his throat, leaving his mouth with a bitter taste. He went to the living room and settled on the couch, staring the coffee table with a sad gaze.

He couldn't believe himself. After all Eric had done for him, he had accused him of being a rapist. When all the larger boy had wanted to do, was show him how much of an _asshole_ his little brother was. _I guess I'm the asshole now..._he mused, leaning forward to scoop a manila folder off the table.

Kyle leaned back against the couch, carefully pulling out fake passports and birth certificates.

_Our names. He only wanted to show me our names, and I accused him of such horrible things._ He groaned internally. He gritted his teeth, the overwhelming urge to vomit rolling over him with a wave of nausea.

"Fucking Ike." He muttered under his breath, opening his passport. The photo of him was the new one, and he tilted his head at the sight of sleek black hair. The name above his photo clearly read "Raven Seville."

_Raven_. As in 'Stan has turned gothic emo fag and now we call him Raven.'

Kyle knew his brother very well, and he knew that the name had been chosen so he could always be close to his super best friend. Sadness settled beside his guilt, and Kyle closed to his eyes. He took several deep breaths, in an attempt to stop himself from tearing up.

However, the last name confused him. He pulled Eric's passport out and settled it beside his own, eyeing the photos and names.

Theodore Seville was typed across Eric's...Seville...

Kyle's eyes widened before he burst into laughter. He bent over his knees, unable to contain the joyful noise.

Eric stormed into the room, frowning down at the black haired boy. "What the fuck is so funny?"

"Your name!" Kyle replied, gasping for air. "Oh God. Did you even get the joke?"

Cartman looked confused as he picked the passports up off the ground, slipping them back into the folder. "What joke?" He asked, turning to place the folder above the fireplace. He didn't want anyone coming by and finding it, so he knew he had to find a better hiding place by the end of the week.

"Theodore Seville! He named you after a chipmunk!"

Eric turned slowly to face his companion. "Jesus Christ. You're right."

Kyle laughter rang loud and clear as Eric rushed to the kitchen, planning on making a very angry phone call to Ike's cell.

AN:

Yeah, very short, I know. It's more of a filler chapter, and explaining what happened in the last one.

If you still don't know what happened, then...I'm sorry?

Eric showed Kyle the names on their papers, and that's why he was freaking out. He smacked Kyle in the face with the papers. Kyle was apologizing, because he had called Eric a rapist.

And...yeah. Wow, this chapter is fail.

Hopefully chapter nine will be longer. Sorry for the fail .-.


	9. Chapter 9

After Eric had sufficiently bawled Ike out over the phone – claiming to Kyle that Ike had put a blocker on it, no one could trace where it was from. It would come up as an unknown number or a payphone – they had eaten dinner and gone to bed.

Kyle had a hard time falling asleep. Guilt struggled with his amusement, but eventually, the darker feeling won. He fell asleep sad, and fortunately, he had a dreamless night.

***

Kyle woke up the next morning when the sunlight became too much to ignore. He sat up and looked out the window, smiling as the sun washed warmly over his face and naked chest. The blanket slipped down his body, settling over his slim hips. He had only worn a pair of boxers and some socks to bed. Despite being in the mountains, the house was warm. That, coupled with the thick, plush blankets, had been enough to keep Kyle at a toasty temperature throughout the night.

The house smelt like eggs and something Kyle couldn't place his finger on. He climbed out of bed and tossed a silky black robe on, shuffling tiredly down the hall. He bumped into the wall twice, and a dresser once. As he made his way towards the kitchen he muttered a quiet mantra of "coffee, coffee, coffee."

"Morning." Eric was standing at the stove, shifting something around in a frying pan. "Coffee's in the pot." He looked over his shoulder, eyebrow raised as he fully looked at Kyle.

The Jew's black hair was curled again, sticking out in every which direction. His eyes were half closed and the left one was twitching slowly as he stifled a yawn. "What?" He groaned, slim hands rising to rub aggressively at his face.

Eric snorted in amusement and pulled a mug out of the cupboard. "What do you take in your coffee?"

"Coffee."

"Yeah. What do you take in it?"

"Coffee!" Apparently Kyle wasn't the brightest bulb in the box first thing in the morning.

Eric rolled his eyes and poured his companion a cup of coffee. He liked his coffee strong, so he hoped the Jew could handle it. "Here." He slammed the mug onto the table and gave Kyle a glare "It's just black, so don't bitch."

"That's what I said. Coffee." Kyle exclaimed tiredly, tossing himself onto a chair.

Eric rolled his eyes "If you just like coffee, why didn't you say it?" He snapped. They were getting along, sure, but they'd never stop their bickering. It was just a part of who they were.

"I did. I said I wanted coffee in my coffee. If I had have said 'Oh, fatass, pour me some milk into my coffee' that would have meant that I wanted milk. But I said coffee." Clearly the drink was waking Kyle up, and giving him back his snarky attitude. Eric couldn't help but prefer the quiet, childish, and slightly deranged person Kyle was when he first woke up.

"Are you calling me stupid?" He raised his eyebrow again, giving Kyle a disapproving look.

"The fact that you just asked proves me right." The Jew smirked, before looking towards the stove. "What are you making?"

"He had some tomatoes on the counter, so I fried them up." Eric shrugged.

"Tomatoes?" Kyle stood and walked towards the stove. "Ew. It looks like a pile of mush."

"It is a pile of mush dumbass." Eric's large hand shoved against Kyle's scrawny chest, nearly toppling the tiny boy over.

"Fuck you fatass!"

"Fine! No breakfast for you! You can cook your own goddamned food!" Eric shouted.

Kyle flinched at the loud and rubbed his hand over his face. "Ugh, whatever. Where's my insulin?" He started towards the fridge when he heard an amused snort.

"I put it on the counter last night after I ran to the store. I needed somewhere to put the milk, and your insulin was in the way. Why the fuck did you put it in there anyway?" Eric turned away from his tomatoes to give the Jew a questioning look. He wasn't prepared for the amount of sheer panic and terror he came face to face with. "What?"

"Cartman..." Kyle started slowly, staring at the little bottle on the counter. Why hadn't he thought about his insulin before? When it was in the carrying case, it was kept cold. He had never told Eric it needed to be kept in the fridge. He couldn't even get the energy to be angry. Plus...He realized then that he would have run out soon anyway.

He picked the small bottle up, feeling how warm it was. _Room temperature. Useless_, he told himself, closing his eyes. He swallowed and took a deep breath, eyes rolling up towards the ceiling. "Cartman, my insulin needs to stay cold, or I can't use it." He explained quietly.

"Well, can't you just eat properly for once, and stop being diabetic?" The larger man grumbled. He made his voice angry to hide the confusion he was feeling.

Kyle laughed humourlessly. "My diet has nothing to do with my diabetes. I was born like this Cartman. God, you really don't listen in class, do you fatass?"

"Don't call me fat you ginger fag."

"I'm not a ginger anymore." Kyle twirled a lock of black hair around his finger, mockingly. "You took care of that." The severity of the situation sunk in, and he moved quickly to the kitchen table. He sat down and took a deep gulp of coffee. "After all this I'm going to die anyway." He said, voice sounding far away.

"What do you mean? You're not going to die." Eric rolled his eyes and stormed over to the table as well, staring down at Kyle.

"Dude. Without my insulin, I'll go into diabetic shock, and then a coma. You can't take me to a hospital, it's too risky."

Eric's annoyed look fell into a deep frown. "You're going to die."

Kyle nodded. He felt strangely calm about the whole situation. "I'm going to die."


	10. Chapter 10

"This is never gonna work." Kyle whispered. He shuffled nervously in his seat, eyes jumping from Eric's face, to the dashboard.

"It has to." Eric mumbled back. He was chewing his lower lip, so much that it bled. His tongue flickered out across the small wound and he cringed at the coppery taste. It churned his stomach, which was already jumping around as if a frog had crawled inside of it.

"It won't." Kyle shook his head. "I don't even know why we're doing this. If I die, you can go back and say that...I don't know." He sighed and leaned back into his seat, thin arms folding over his chest. "It's just not going to work."

"It has to." Eric repeated. He wasn't usually one to get nervous about lying, about deceit. Generally, the only thing that rode on his lies was a quick buck. This time though...It wasn't money. What would be lost if he fucked this up, if he failed this time, wasn't anything material. If this didn't work, Kyle would die.

Everything they'd done in the past – shit, had it really been that long? – three weeks would be for nothing. If he failed, Kyle would die, and he would go to jail. He'd be charged with kidnapping, two accounts of murder. If they ever found out about Ike, the little Canuck would be put in a juvenile detention centre. He'd ruin everyone's lives.

Kyle watched as Eric's hand gripped the steering wheel tighter. He knew that his negativity wasn't helping anyone, but it was better than hoping. If he wished that the plan worked, and it failed, the disappointment would only be greater. But still...Eric had done so much for him the past while. Saving him, lying for him. After all they'd been through, the least he could do was a put a little faith in his companion.

He felt as though he didn't have control of his body as his hand rose. He watched it as it reached out, settling against Eric's massive bicep. The larger boy swivelled his head in Kyle's direction, eyes dark and full of questions.

Kyle tried to let his smile be reassuring as they pulled into the parking lot of the local hospital. "It'll work."

"Why the sudden change of heart?" Eric asked gruffly. He turned his eyes back to the front window as he slowed the car to a stop.

"As much as I'm going to _hate_ having to say this, _especially_ if this whole thing has just been another one of your giant, stupid hoaxes..." Kyle took a deep breath before continuing. "I trust you."

Eric bit his lower lip once more, blood pouring into his mouth. He trembled inside, unsure of what was happening. Kyle...trusted him? It didn't make any sense, even after everything. Years of arguments and torment flashed before his eyes.

Who would have thought that two people who hated each other so much would be willing to risk everything, just to keep each other safe. He cast a sideways glance at his small, black haired companion, and forced a smile. "Good. Because it's going to work."

Kyle's green eyes focused on Eric's dark brown ones. They were silent for a long moment. Both boys could feel the tension in the car. A smile crept along Kyle's face, this one entirely sincere. The intensity of his gaze startled Eric.

"I believe you."

Eric took a deep breath and tore his gaze away, heart beating wildly in his chest. He swallowed and nodded, turning the car off. He opened his door slowly, and as he stepped out, he turned back to Kyle. "Let's do this."

Kyle stepped out of his side, tying his black hair back as he kicked the door shut. "I'm ready."


	11. Chapter 11

They moved together towards the hospital. Kyle was amused to find that the doors weren't automatic – you had to open them yourself. _Canada_ he thought fondly, shaking his head. A few lock's of recently straightened black hair escapes his ponytail, slipping into his face. Compared to his pale, freckled skin, the hair looked like black ink someone had slopped onto his face. He eyed his reflection in the glass for a moment, before face appeared, so very close to his own.

"You remember what to do?" Eric asked softly. His breath fluttered across Kyle's ear, and the smaller boy shuddered.

Kyle shook the confusion from his head. "Of course I do. I'm not the retard here." He muttered back, although without any bite to his words. He was simply trying to calm them both down. A little bit of 'friendly banter' always helped calm his nerves, he figured it would do the same for Eric.

Eric brought his knee up into Kyle's ass, listening to the boys muffled yelp with a satisfied smirk. When the other boy turned to sharply glare over his shoulder, Eric reached around his side to grasp the door handle.

His breath caught as Kyle shifted out of his way, pressing back against his chest. He cleared his throat and stepped to the side, moving as quickly as possible away from his friend.

_Friend. Never thought I'd think of this little Jew fag as a friend._

He pulled the door open, allowing Kyle to walk in before he did. The butterflies he had, had stayed behind them in the car. He was entirely confident now, certain their plan would work. Kyle was partially to thank for his newfound confidence. If the boy hadn't stood behind his plan, he knew he would have sweaty palms at this point.

He wrapped an arm around Kyle's waist, feeling the Jew slump against his side. He looked down and watched Kyle's hands settle over the swell of his stomach. To anyone looking in, it would seem as if he was holding it in pain. Eric knew he was holding it to keep the pillow they'd taped under his over sized shirt from shifting too much.

Kyle's breathing picked up, becoming soft, panicked pants as they approached the desk. Eric smiled internally. _I guess all those drama classes the nerd took finally paid off_.

"Excuse me ma'am." Eric stared at the woman at the front desk, eyes wide and full of shock. He'd _always_ been a good actor. He'd never needed classes. "Ma'am I think my wife's gone into labour. I don't...We're just passing through, she isn't due for another two months." His voice grew louder as he let fake panic slip into his body. He trembled, pulling Kyle closer.

"Oh my! Oh, let me call a doctor, we'll get her on a stretcher." The woman was jumping up, head flapping away. Eric had to hold back his laughter.

_They really do look like trash cans_.

He loosened his grip as he felt Kyle beginning to go limp beside him. As planned, Kyle rolled his eyes back and allowed his legs to give up. He toppled to the ground, moaning in pain.

"I'm going to throw up." Cartman told the secretary, hand flying to cover his mouth. "Where's the bathroom?"

She pointed hurriedly to the left, rushing to Kyle's side. "I called a doctor, the doctor should be here soon."

Eric moved away quickly, glancing over his shoulder. Kyle really _did_ look like a pregnant woman. They had stopped at a good will, and bought an over sized outfit, very girly looking. Eric had _forced_ him to wear a bra, and they had stuffed it with socks.

It wasn't his best idea ever, but it had been the only he could come up with one such short notice.

A doctor ran by him, and a feeling of unease settled in Eric's gut. He stopped and turned to watch the blond man as he ran down the hall. He was wearing a lab coat, but he didn't have a flappy head.

He wasn't Canadian.

He didn't look old enough to be a doctor.

Warning bells went off in Eric's head. The man looked so familiar, Eric was sure he'd seen him somewhere before..._Probably saw him at the grocery store in town. Stop worrying and get going!_ He commanded himself.

Taking his own advice, he circled back around to the pharmacy. "Someone just collapsed in the hall,m you have to call a doctor!" He told the worker inside.

"What? In the hall?" The man stepped out from behind the counter.

"By the bathrooms, a little old lady. I ran to get help, I was screaming but no one came." He caught a look at himself in the mirror and had to bite back more laughter. He really did look like a concerned citizen, and Canadians we're so _gullible_.

The man rushed passed him and Eric hopped the counter. He moved to the back room and pulled Kyle's useless bottle of insulin out of his pocket. He jerked a cooler open and quickly looked through the various bottles, until he found the insulin that Kyle needed. He filled his backpack with as many bottles as he could safely carry, then rushed back out of the room.

He took the back doors of the hospital, and finally did burst into laughter when he saw their car sitting there, waiting.

Kyle was behind the wheel, still in the girl's clothes, but without the massive stomach.

Eric climbed into the passenger side, carefully setting his backpack down between them. "I sort of liked pregnant you." He joked, smirking when Kyle's face turned red.

"Well, you're curvier; you should have been the girl." Kyle retorted, trying to pretend that he was angry rather than embarrassed.

"No one would have believed you could top me."

"Homo." Kyle slammed on the gas and they tore out of the parking lot. Distantly, they could hear sirens.

Eric caught something in the rear view mirror and focused his attention there. The doctor from before, the one that was too young, too familiar, was leaning against the wall beside the back doors. Eric assumed the smoke billowing above his head was from a smoke.

"We have to ditch this car."

"What?"

"We have to ditch this car. Turn right."

Kyle didn't question him, he just did as he was told.


	12. Chapter 12

Kyle watched with mild amusement as Eric cringed at him. He never knew that the fatass hated needles. He stared directly at Eric as he tapped the bubbles out of his syringe, and slid it into his arm.

The larger boy stood and walked away, eyes twitching. Kyle's laughter followed him into the living room.

"Fuck." Eric sighed as he sat on the large couch. He rubbed a hand over his face as his mind wandered. It jumped first to the job he had gotten at a grocery store outside of town, to the man at the hospital, then back to Kyle.

He had no idea what he was going to do. He had only taken the job so the neighbours – although they were few and far between – wouldn't start asking questions. He knew the hospitals didn't have video surveillance, so working so far away was simply a precaution.

He hated leaving Kyle alone all day. Not that he _wanted_ to be around the Jew, but the incident at the hospital had left him uneasy. It had been three weeks since he had seen him, but something just didn't feel right.

"Are you heading off to work?"

Eric looked up as Kyle entered the room. He felt a stirring in his stomach, and closed his eyes. "Yeah. In a minute."

"If you don't get going, you'll be late." Kyle scolded. Eric opened his eyes once more, watching the Jew quietly. The boy had his hands on his hip, the right one jutting out. He looked so girly.

Eric smirked softly as he dragged himself up off the couch. He'd never had to work a day in his life. He stopped in front of Kyle and glared down at the boy, "You better fucking appreciate this."

Kyle tilted his head back, giving Eric a coy smile. "I do. Your lunch is on the counter." He raised an eyebrow. Their newfound closeness had given the Jewish boy an almost cocky demeanour. "Want a kiss before you head off to work honey muffin?" He cooed mockingly, eyelashes batting up at the larger boy.

"Yes." Eric stated seriously.

Kyle's jaw dropped as he floundered for something to say. "I-"

He was cut off by chapped lips pressing roughly to his own. The touch only lasted a minute, but it burnt its way through Kyle, straight to his core. He was left standing in the hallway as Eric walked away, unable to move.

He spent the rest of his day cleaning the already spotless home, eyes distant. His finger tips touched his lips every so often, and he wondered why he hadn't punched Eric in the face.

_Maybe because I wanted it._


	13. Chapter 13

Eric managed to get to work without having an accident. His head was floating and his body was thrumming lightly with adrenaline. Kissing Kyle had been a massive rush. Unfortunately, most of the rush had gone straight to his groin. He had never thought of himself as gay – cross dressing and sucking Butters' balls aside – but he supposed it could be possible. He'd never really dated any girl, and the only one he even _liked_ was Wendy. But she was so butch, she could pass for a man any day, and had on more than one occasion.

Before going into the store, he went to the bathroom. He spent nearly a half an hour inside, taking care of himself. He changed in there rather than going to the locker rooms, and then headed to the back. "I'm here now." He called to his boss.

"There's boxes over there that need to be unpacked." The man said tiredly, scratching at the bald spot on his head. "I'm gonna go get some coffee and stuff. You just keep on working."

Eric rolled his eyes in annoyance. He came in everyday on time, sometimes stayed late, and never _once_ had he seen his boss do anything. The man was supposed to be in charge, but he spent all his time eating, smoking, or reading playboys at their ratty picnic table out back. "Whatever." He waved a hand at the older man and grabbed a box, dragging it off of the trolley. It wasn't a great job, but it gave him something to do, and kept him away from Kyle. Eric knew that if the two of them were to spend _all_ their time together, one of them would wind up dead.

He also knew that it wouldn't be him. He outweighed Kyle by a good hundred pounds. All he'd have to do is sit on the boy, and he'd be down for the count. _I'd rather he sat on me_ he cackled mentally, leering.

A co-worker gave him a scared look when the leer unknowingly landed on him. The other man scuttled off, shuddering at the thought.

Eric worked hard until lunch time rolled around. He always took his breaks on time, whether he was in the middle of something or not. He pulled the lunch out of his bag, and rolled his eyes. Same old plain sandwich, with an apple, a banana, and a pudding. _I swear to God I'm going to waste away to nothing if he doesn't start feeding me properly._

He gathered his lunch into his hands and strode out the back doors of the store. He always ate outside, at the picnic bench.

Eric settled down, hunched over his food as he thoughtfully chewed. He couldn't get Kyle out of his head. Deep in thought, Eric never noticed when someone sat across from him. He didn't notice until the new person cleared their throat.

Slowly, his eyes rose from the sandwich he had been nibbling at. His breath caught in his throat, and his eyes widened. Quickly, he calmed himself down. His expression schooled back into nonchalance, "Can I help you?" He asked snidely, straightening his back. He allowed a glare to settle across his face.

"Yeah, you can." The other man folded his arms across his chest, leaning forward. "Where are you currently staying?" His voice was cold, his eyes were hard. He looked dangerous.

"I don't think that's any of your fucking business." Eric growled.

"Oh I think it is, _Theodore_." The man's voice dripped with sarcasm as he raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow. "And I think it's in your best interest if you tell me."

"Why are you following us? Who are you?" Eric leaned forward as well, lips curved into a sneer. "You answer a few of _my_ questions, and we'll see if I want to answer yours. If you're not going to talk you can just fuck off. I have no problems making you go away." He smiled as his hand slid down to his side, fingers brushing lightly over the knife he always carried.

The other man stood up, brushing mountain snow off of his expensive looking jacket. "Let's walk." He suggested.

"My breaks almost over."

"Let's walk."

Eric eyed the gun that was pointing at him, stomach level. He looked back at the building then gave a deep sigh. "Fine. Let's walk."


	14. Chapter 14

They walked in silence for a good half an hour. By the time the other man decided to finally speak, they were well into the woods. Eric knew that even if something _did_ go wrong, no one would be able to hear him if he called for help. "So, you have questions." The man mused, eyeing Eric with an annoyed expression. "You're really bothersome, you know." It was more a statement than anything, one that had Eric smirking.

"I know." He looked down to see the gun still out, clutched loosely in the blonde's grip. "You can put that away dumbass. I'm not about to go running anywhere."

"I would assume not. You've been running for a while." The man snorted softly.

"You've been following me for a while."

"I'm going to keep it out. As a safety precaution."

"You won't shoot me. You'd never find out where we're staying if you shot me." Eric stopped, turning fully to face the blond. His eyes were full of confidence as he eyed the taller, but thinner man. "And I know I'm right."

The blonde pursed his lips, reluctantly putting the gun back in a holster that was hidden by his bulky coat. "Of course."

"You look familiar." Eric finally admitted, brow creased with thought.

The blonde smiled, charmingly. "Do I now? I would hope so. You've known me for quite some time." He looked around, then finally decided to sit himself on a fallen tree. He brushed the snow from it before sitting. "Around eight years, if I'm not mistaken." It was his turn to smirk. "And I'm usually not mistaken."

"Why don't you jog my memory." Eric offered sarcastically as he crossed his arms. His legs spread slightly, widening his stance just in case the other man decided to attack. The blond didn't look like the type to physically lunge though; the gun seemed to fit his style.

"Let's just say you and I have been involved together, about Canadians, before."

The only time Eric could remember being _involved_ about Canadians was when Ike's family reclaimed him, and the war with Canada. He was sure there had been no other American's during the time they had visited Canada to get Ike back. During the war though...

"_Gregory?_" Eric practically yowled, a distraught look upon his face.

"Bingo." The blond, now know as Gregory, winked.

"You fucking idiot! Why the hell are you following us!?" Eric was pacing then, confused beyond all belief. He stopped and turned back to Gregory. "You grew up." He muttered.

"We all did. Except some of us got better jobs than others." Gregory sniffed at the grocery store uniform Eric still had on.

"Fuck you. Why are you following us? I want some goddamned answers!" He roared. The birds in the trees surrounding them took flight at his booming voice, shrieking in surprise.

Gregory's smile faded, was replaced with a serious, dark look. "You weren't supposed to get involved."

"Involved with what?" Eric asked in an exasperated voice.

"With Kyle being raped." Gregory shifted, looked towards the sky. "You weren't supposed to go into the bathroom. It was just supposed to happen." He looked back towards Eric, frowning faintly. "You ruined _everything_."

"You." Eric's face was red with rage, his heart slamming inside his chest as his gut twisted into an angry knot. "You _planned_ for Kyle to get raped?"

"He wasn't going to die. Only get a little mussed up." Gregory assured him, eyes soothing. "But you ruined it all, and look where it got you. If you had have just let the man do his job-"

"His _job?_ Why are you following us?" Eric grabbed the blond by the front of the shirt, jerking him up. Gregory made a startled noise. He'd never seen anyone so _big_ move so _fast_. He reached for his gun, but found his arm being held by an incredible grip.

"I was hired to make sure the plan went through. I was to find someone to rape Broflovski, and then I was supposed to send Stanley" He sneered as he said the dark haired boys name "In to find him."

"Who hired you?" Eric growled, nose brushing Gregory's as he leaned in. He was half tempted to bite the man in the face, rip his flesh open, make him _hurt._ _**No one fucked with Kyle.**_

"Gerald Broflovski."


	15. Chapter 15

"What the fuck do you mean Gerald Broflovski?" There wasn't a hint of shock in Eric's voice; there was only anger. He believed that Gregory was lying to him, protecting someone. For the life of him, Eric couldn't imagine anyone other than himself would want to hurt Kyle. Even though, raping the boy was pathetic, and low. It wasn't a good kind of hurting. It was a disturbed, long lasting sort.

"I mean Gerald hired me." Gregory suppressed a cringe. The larger boy was squeezing him even harder than before, and he had to admit that it hurt a bit. Still, he refused to show any sign of weakness in the face of his 'enemy'.

"Why the fuck would Kahl's dad hire someone to _rape_ him?" Eric asked incredulously, eyebrow arching.

"Law work is slow right now. If he could get his own son to be hurt, it would provide some much needed publicity. 'Big time lawyers son gets brutalized on his vacation – what happens next?', it just sounds good." Gregory took a slow breath, preparing himself to continue the story.

Broflovski would be pissed off, but he didn't care. His job was to find the boy and bring him home. He would never get the information unless he gained the fatass' trust. No way in hell would the other man submit to torture. Gregory narrowed his eyes as he thought about it.

Cartman was like vicious pitbull, prepared to rip apart anything and everything that got near to his master. A small smirk played across the blond's lips as he thought of tiny red haired Kyle dominating the massive beast that was currently crushing his arm.

"We didn't pay the man. We were going to do it after he got the job done...Not that it was very difficult." Gregory shrugged painfully, "Kyle's a good looking kid. We were planning on meeting up outside the club afterwards. Christophe and I were going to arrest him, and Gerald was going to sue the hell out of him, representing himself and Kyle. He never saw our faces, he'd have had no idea that he had been tricked into it."

"So this was all just so Gerald good make a quick buck?" Eric's face reddened with anger, and his eyes narrowed into little slits. His hand squeezed Gregory hard enough that the blond was _positive_ his arm was going to snap.

"Don't blame me. I was just doing my job." Gregory forced a laugh, "Until you fucked it up." His laughter faded as his eyes became serious. "I'm just here to retrieve Kyle and bring him back home. His family misses him." He paused for a moment.

Something flickered in his eyes, and Eric instantly felt uneasy. He had spent a decade lying to people, deceiving them. He knew how to catch the little signs of deceit. Whatever Gregory was about to say, it wouldn't be the truth.

Finding the truth would be up to him and Kyle, that night, while they packed and prepared to rush off again. Their little town wasn't safe anymore. A trickle of fear shot up Eric's spine as he realized Kyle was home alone. _What if this is just a setup? Christ, what if this dumbass is just trying to keep me distracted?_ The urge to run home, make sure his little redhead was safe, shot through him fiercely. He clenched his teeth to hold back a distressed noise.

"Gerald says if you stop this nonsense and go back to South Park, he'll represent both you and Kyle for free. He doesn't want to see either of you go to jail." Gregory's eyes were hard again. The words slipped off his tongue smoothly.

Eric wondered if they were rehearsed.

"So just tell me where Kyle is, and we'll go get him together."

If Gregory was around, then so was Christophe. He had even admitted that they had worked together to make Kyle get raped. If Gregory was there, where was Christophe?


	16. Chapter 16

A knock at the door startled Kyle out of his half asleep state. He was certain that today was Monday, and the cleaning people didn't show up until Sunday night. _Eric's working, it has to be Monday_ he told himself as he slowly climbed off of the couch.

As his hand reached for the door knob the phone in the kitchen began to ring. Considering that he had no idea who would be arriving at the house – or what sort of people they would be – he turned and walked back to the kitchen. As far as the person outside knew, no one was home.

"Hello?" He asked quietly. He had had to pretend on several occasions to be a nephew visiting from out of Province when people called.

"Don't open the door. After this call, don't answer the phone." The voice on the other end of the line sounded panicked, scared.

"Eric? Why? What's wrong?" Kyle demanded. His moved quickly to the window, pulling the blinds shut. It was at the back of the house. If Eric was freaking out, then it would be best to remain invisible.

"I can't explain right now." Kyle heard the screech of tires through the phone and felt his heart speed up. "Grab your insulin and fill your backpack with clothes. Get out. Take the back door. Go as quietly as you can." Eric made a strange noise in his throat. "Don't fuck this up Kahl. Don't make a sound. Just grab everything, and get out the back door. Go into the woods. I'll find you."

"Eric –"

"I can't explain right now. I'll see you soon. Just _go._"

Kyle looked around the cabin he had been calling his home for a few weeks now. Sadness settled in his stomach, but he shook it off. He stood quickly and moved to the fridge to get his insulin. He didn't know how long it would be like this, but he knew that if Eric said it was time to go – it was time to go.

***

He rushed through the woods, lungs burning with exertion. He hadn't heard or seen any sign of his companion for a while now, but he was certain he was being followed. In the moments when he had to pause, take a breath, adjust the bag, he could hear them; Footsteps, heavy in the snow, and breath coming just as fast as his own.

If it was Eric, the larger boy would have commanded him to stop by then. The person following him was _not_ Eric. It was probably the same one who had been knocking at the door.

Kyle was afraid.

He shook his black hair out of his face, cringing as a lock banged lightly against his nose. It had been damp when he left, and now it was partially frozen. He knew it would look like shit if he ever got away. He spared a glance over his shoulder, trying to see just who exactly was following him.

Suddenly, something smashed against his chest. His head swivelled back to face the front as his own momentum sent him crashing painfully into the ground. He landed on his back, arched awkwardly as his bag lifted his torso off the forest floor.

He groaned, opening his eyes to stare up at what he was _hoping_ was a tree branch. He blinked in surprise as he stared up at a blond man.

He looked almost like an angel. Sunlight filtered through the canopy above, casting him in a halo of gold. As he leaned down, a shiver ran through Kyle's body.

This was no angel.

The look in his eyes was hard, cold. His smile was meant to be nice, but on his face, came out as cruel.

Kyle swallowed a lump in his throat as the footsteps from before stopped right beside his head. Two leather clad hands grabbed him under the arms, hauling him off of his feet. He couldn't move as his bag was ripped off and tossed uselessly to the corner.

"You won't be needing that." The blond smiled and reached forward, dusting Kyle off. "Your father sent us to fetch you." He cooed soothingly, eyes mocking. "So let's bring you back. We better get on the road, we have a long drive."

"Where's Eric?" Kyle demanded, trying to plant his feet firmly into the ground. He was dragged along anyway, and he soon gave up struggling.

"Sleeping at the house. He's fine. We'll come back for him in a little while." Gregory explained, opening the back door of the black truck for Kyle to be shoved into.

Kyle watched as the second mountain town he'd come to love faded away. If him going quietly gave Eric time to hide, to keep himself out of jail, then so be it.

***

Eric woke hours later, staring at the puddle of blood around his head. Christophe had been waiting for him when he got to the house. He had only been planning on making sure that Kyle had actually left. He was getting ready to find the boy when the Frenchman had slammed his own goddamned frying pan into the back of his head.

Dragging himself up, Eric stumbled out the still open front door. He put a hand to his head and hissed in pain. Shaking it, he made his way towards the woods. He wandered aimlessly for hours, until he happened across the backpack he had bought Kyle only last week.

Heart filled with dread, he picked it up and went back to the house to make a phone call to Ike.


	17. Chapter 17

Three days.

They took turns driving. The blond – Gregory – would drive while the brunet – Christophe – slept in the passenger seat. When Gregory got tired, they would switch off. They stopped only to get food, use the bathroom, or fill up on gas.

Kyle was never left alone, and he hadn't had a shower in three days. He felt greasy, dirty. The fast food they ate made him sick – it reminded him of Eric, of who he had left behind. _It's for the better_ he told himself.

They hadn't told him much of anything, just that his dad missed him, and wanted to represent him in court. He wanted to help Eric too. Kyle knew that Eric would eventually make his way back to South Park, to see what had happened to him. He hoped that his friend would accept his father's help.

Kyle knew that when Eric got back to South Park, he wouldn't be there.

"You have to eat your food. You're going to get sick." Gregory's voice was disapproving as he stared at Kyle from the rear view mirror. "You're already looking a little bit pale. You keep throwing everything up." He was complaining as he drove, eyes not even focused on the road.

A small, tired smile slid onto Kyle's face. He could remember yelling at Eric about that not too long ago. It all seemed so far away now.

He knew his dad didn't want to help him. If he did, he would be on a plane. He wouldn't be stuck in a car with two people who stared at him with dark eyes, who fed him food that made him sick.

It had been three days since Kyle took his insulin.

His body felt heavy, and he was tired. Giving Gregory a nearly mocking smile, he took a bite out of his burger.

Kyle knew it would all be over soon.

He ate as much as he could before carefully folding the wrappers back around his food. He placed them in the fast food bag then laid his head against the window.

"Tired?" Christophe asked. The brunet didn't talk much – if ever – and when he did, it was usually yes or no questions, or one worded answers.

"Yeah." Kyle sighed, nodding his head against the cool glass. It felt nice on his face. He watched the rain splash against the window, and wondered how cold it was outside.

"Go to sleep then." Gregory commanded softly. He wasn't the friendliest person, but he was always looking out for Kyle's well being.

_Probably doesn't want to lose any money from dad_ Kyle mused as his eyes drifted shut.

He hoped that Eric would get to South Park and realize something was wrong. He hoped that Stan wouldn't cry too much, that Kenny would be there to comfort him. He hoped that Ike would be strong, and that he would learn the truth and get away while he still had the chance. He hoped his father got caught for the horrible thing he had done.

He wished he would be there to see it.

Kyle took one final deep breath before his mind slipped into a calm blackness.

The two drivers didn't realize there was anything wrong until they stopped for a bathroom break. Christophe went around the side of the car and opened the door, reaching in to shake Kyle awake. They hadn't stopped for nearly six hours, he was certain the boy would have to use the rest room.

Kyle's head lolled uselessly against his back of his seat, and Christophe realized that the one red headed boy wasn't breathing.


	18. Chapter 18

**Epilogue**

As Eric stared down at the headstone in front of himself, memories washed over his mind. He could see the surprised look when he kissed Kyle, then angry, flustered face he had received on their drive to the airport. He could imagine the smell of bacon cooking as he woke up in the morning, coffee already beside his bed.

He remembered police officers bursting into the cabin as he hurriedly explained everything to Ike. He could still feel the cold bite of handcuffs grasping at his wrists – he was required to wear them outside of the prison – and the feeling of being shoved into a police car.

The look on Gerald's face as he accused Eric of kidnapping and manslaughter was still as fresh in his mind as if it had been yesterday. It had been nearly six years ago. The judge's pitying look as she declared that he was guilty was just as fresh, and just as sore.

He had been sentenced to ten years, and they never let him go to the funeral, no matter how hard he begged. Exceptionally good behaviour had earned him the yearly trip to the cemetery. He went on the anniversary of their first kiss, every year, without fail.

He lowered himself to his knees as he stared at the name on the headstone. Kenny and Stan stood across from him, regarding the officers with dark eyes.

Ike had told them everything.

Eric closed his eyes against the onslaught of emotion. He stayed like that for half an hour – until the officer beside him tapped his shoulder. "Time to go kid." The middle aged man said softly.

Eric walked with another officer to the car.

"That's got to be the worst case of regret I've ever seen." The elderly officer murmured to his younger partner once the door was closed on Eric.

The black haired, black eyed man looked up at him. He was clearly Canadian. "It would be if there was something to regret." He said softly.

"You don't think he did it?"

Ike shrugged. _I know he didn't do it_. "I don't know."

That night at home, Ike brought up his father's tea without complaint. He stood in the doorway and watched as the man finished it. He smiled as Gerald's eyelids drooped, before finally closing. He moved forward, sliding the coffee cup out of the way as he laid his father's head on the desk. It looked like he had fallen asleep while working.

Sheila wouldn't find him until the morning, and by that time, Ike and Eric would both be gone.

**THE END**

**AN:**

**Thanks to all of you who have stayed with me throughout this. I'm really sad to see it end, but also really happy. This fic has been giving me a hard time for a while, and I'm glad to see it finally come to a close. I hope that the ending pleased everyone, and that you all enjoyed reading it. Thank you once again 3**


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